Tony Stark is not a Handyman
by athanharthad
Summary: Tony and Clint try to install a shelving unit and things go wrong. Along the way, they may discover Steve's hidden talent. One shot. NO SLASH.


"I mean it makes sense," Clint said. He was struggling to hand Tony a wrench. "If he has enhanced cell regeneration, endurance, metabolism, muscle mass and everything else in between, why not?"

Tony was on a ladder, screwing the hooks onto a large, metal shelving unit that he was installing in his workshop. He sat on top of the ladder and reached dangerously above his head to install the shelf. He looked down at Clint, who was on a small step ladder supporting it above his head.

"Yes, finally someone agrees with me! Your girlfriend gave me a death stare when I mentioned the idea to her." Tony felt sweat beading around his forehead as he pulled at the wrench.

Clint laughed, "Nat is very protective of him. She probably thought you were making fun of him again."

Tony scoffed. "Please, I _never_ make fun of Spangles."

"You just did."

"What?"

"Right then, you called him Spangles."

"'Spangles' hardly qualifies for being made fun of. Anyways, I think that my theory is right. I _swear_ I've heard singing come from his room. Late at night when no one else is awake… or at least, he _thinks_ no one else is awake."

"I think you're onto something here. Steve probably has an amazing singing voice. And now that you've pointed it out to me, I can't stop thinking about it. Lord knows he'd be too shy if I asked him to sing a couple notes."

"I can see it now, cherry red cheeks, words stammering out of his mouth, excuses galore!"

The shelf creaked and moved as Tony lost his focus. Clint shifted under the shelf to make sure he had a good grip. "Man. Tony, this is really heavy, you couldn't have asked _any_ of the other guys to help you? I mean a super soldier lives about three floors up from here."

"Well, you were the one I saw first."

"Oh gee, thanks. And here I thought this was some bonding time we were doing." Clint shifted uneasily again. Sweat formed on his face. "Could you hurry it up up there?"

"Easy hawk-face," Tony leaned further and the shelf fell about 2 inches.

"Tony! What the hell?"

"Hold on, I've just got to reach…" he fell off the ladder and landed on top of the shelf, he felt himself fall, but stopped as soon as it started. He gingerly looked over the edge and saw perfectly parted blonde hair and ridiculously blue eyes looking back up at him.

"Are you OK?" Steve asked, concern filling his eyes. He was lifting the shelf easily.

"Uh-huh" Tony answered as he carefully stepped back onto the ladder. He felt embarrassed about having to be saved by Steve.

Clint sat on the floor and rubbed his shoulder. "Never ask me for a favor again, Stark."

Tony ignored Clint and worked quickly. He hated that Steve had to save the day again. He finished up screwing the bolts into the ceiling. "OK, that should hold it." he climbed down the ladder. "Alright Steve, you can let go now."

Steve carefully let go of the shelf and turned to look at Tony, "Don't you have people to do these kinds of things for you?"

"No one's allowed down in my lab. And plus, it's good to get my hands dirty every once in a while."

"Yeah, well next time, tackle something a little less dangerous than installing a hundred pound metal cabinet to the ceiling." Clint said as he rose to his feet.

Steve smiled.

"I think she's as sturdy as can be," Tony said as he banged the side of the shelf. "See? I've still got…"

Tony broke off as the left side of the shelf unhinged from the ceiling and swung with unfettered speed and hit Steve square in the face. The super soldier was thrown from his feet and landed heavily into Tony's workbench.

"Steve!" Clint shouted as he and Tony ran to him.

Steve laid with his back on the floor. His hands covered his face tightly. Clint took his hands from his face and found it covered in blood.

"Geez," Clint breathed. "He must have hit his head on the corner of the bench."

Tony whipped his head around to look and saw blood dripping from the sharp corner of his bench. The sound of Steve's skull cracking haunted him. He grabbed a hand towel from the bench.

"Steve, are you OK?"

He blinked up at the ceiling and breathed heavily. "Hmm?" he asked groggily.

"I asked if you were OK?" Clint repeated.

"Umm.. yeah..thinkso" Steve slurred. "Wh'happened?"

Tony and Clint looked at each other. Clint wiped the blood off his face as Tony started carefully cleaning the long jagged cut he received on the side of his forehead down to his eyebrow.

"You hit your head, Steve. We're cleaning it up right now and you'll be up and at 'em in no time." Tony poured rubbing alcohol on the wound.

"Ow!" Steve groaned as he tried to reach for his wound.

"Oh no no no, big guy," Tony admonished. "Don't touch it."

Steve groaned.

"This is deep," Tony whispered to Clint.

"Should I get Bruce?"

Tony nodded. He scooted over to place a towel over the wound and guided Steve's hands to hold it there. "Do you want to sit up?" Tony asked when he noticed Steve getting restless.

"Yeah." Tony made a mental note that Steve already sounded monumentally better than he did a minute ago.

Tony placed his hand underneath the soldier's head and upper back and lifted gently. Steve moved mostly on his own accord and Tony made another note. He sat up and almost pitched forward, but Tony steadied him until he could get his bearings. "Thanks," Steve said.

"You're welcome. Oh, and by the way, sorry for hitting you in the head with a shelving unit."

Steve huffed out a laugh as Bruce and Clint came running into the room.

"What happened?" Bruce said with concern as he knelt next to Steve. He lowered the towel which was now soaked with blood and looked at the wound.

"Tony mistakenly thought he could install a shelving unit." Clint said. If anyone could match Tony in both sarcasm and wit, it was Clint.

"This is deep. Let's go up to the med bay and stitch you up. Do you think you can walk, Steve?"

"Definitely." Steve said quickly. Tony was amazed at what the serum was capable of doing. Just a minute ago he probably had no idea where or who he was, now he's talking like nothing happened. Bruce and Clint took hold of both of Steve's arms and lifted gently. Soon, they got him up on his feet and he was walking of his own accord with no help from anyone. He still had his face partially covered with the towel from before. They made it up to the medical room. Steve climbed up on the sick bed as Bruce prepared to stitch up his wound.

"This might hurt a little, I can't give you anesthesia." Bruce said sheepishly.

"It's fine, I know." Steve smiled.

Steve lay back and let Bruce stitch him up. Clint was next to Steve, wiping the blood from his face as Bruce worked. The wound was _still_ bleeding like a stuck pig. Tony sat down in the chair next to the bed.

The doors to the med bay opened. "What happened?" Natasha's voice rang and Tony sat up.

Clint informed Natasha of what happened and she glared at Tony, "How did I know this was your fault?"

Tony shrugged defensively. "It's not like I tried to hurt him!"

Clint laughed in amusement.

"Aaaaannd done." Bruce said as he cut off the last of the string.

"Thanks, doc." Steve said as he made to get up.

"Ooh not so fast, Steve. I need to check for a concussion." Bruce took off his bloody rubber gloves and felt Steve's head and looked at his eyes and reflexes. "Steve, you've got a severe concussion. You need to take it easy for the next couple of days."

Steve looked utterly dejected at this news, though he said nothing. Guilt rose in Tony's chest. He got up and helped Steve stand. "Well, that's perfect because I've got a fun night planned."

Bruce gave an admonishing look at Tony, "No, he needs to rest."

"I know, doc. Believe me, I've had my fair share of concussions. And nothing cures me faster than listening to music," Tony glanced at Clint and smirked.

Steve lay on the couch, outstretched. Tony and Clint sat on the floor facing him.

"Clint, you play guitar right?"Tony winked.

Catching on, Clint went to get his guitar. "Yeah, I play in my spare time. My voice is terrible. I wish someone around here would sing for me." Clint hinted heavily, but Steve kept his eyes closed.

Frustrated that Steve wasn't volunteering, Tony offered, "Oh well, maybe if you start playing, we'll join in, won't we Steve?"

Steve shifted on the couch. His cheeks looked flushed.

"I think he's out of it. This is perfect!" Tony whispered to Clint.

"What are you whispering about?'" Steve slurred.

"Oh nothing, we just want to play something you know so you can join in."

Clint started softly playing Danny Boy. "His parents were immigrants from Ireland, he _has_ to know this song," he whispered to Tony.

Tony tried to stifle a laugh. He was hoping that Steve would sing so he could find out if he had a good voice or not.

Clint started to sing softly. He wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be. Then Tony started to sing softly. He was truly terrible, but he thought it would help Steve feel more comfortable.

And sure enough, quiet words came from Steve's mouth. Clint and Tony looked at each other again. "He's _amazing_ ," Clint mouthed.

"I _told_ you." Tony gloated.

The song ended but Clint kept strumming.

"Steve, where'd you learn to sing? You're really good, buddy," Clint said meekly. He didn't want Steve to feel embarrassed.

"Oh, thanks, I didn't realize…" Steve stammered.

"Oh no, you were so good! Can you sing another one for us?"

Steve opened his eyes and looked over at Tony and Clint. They were staring wide-eyed at the super soldier. "No, I'm not good enough."

"For goodness sakes, Rogers, take ownership of your talents. Sing us a song." Tony said.

Steve looked uncertain.

"What song do you know?" Clint insisted.

"I don't really want to." Steve said. Holding his wound.

"Oh come off it. Why not?" Tony asked.

"I don't know… I guess it reminds me of my mom." Steve said slowly. That was information that he never thought he would share with them, but he was feeling out-of-it because of the concussion. Is this what it felt like to be buzzed?

Clint shook his head.

"What songs did she like?" Tony asked. He was not going to pass up this opportunity of having an out-of-it Steve Rogers at his disposal.

"Classic Irish songs were her favorite. She would always sing them around the house."

"What about Scarborough Fair? She would probably love it if you sang in her memory. Wouldn't she, Tony?" Clint asked as he started to strum the song.

"Of course she would. She's probably pining to hear you sing from heaven." Tony said softly. Steve never spoke of his parents, so he was hoping this was a good memory for Steve, as he milked it for his cause.

Steve closed his eyes again. He didn't want Tony and Clint to listen to him but talking about his mom made him feel nostalgic. He flashed back to when he was little and would sing along with his mother. He started singing softly but got louder as the song progressed. When it finished, he opened his eyes and saw Clint and Tony with watery eyes and gaping mouths. They must've hated it. "What? Was it that bad?"

The silence was broken when they both started laughing in amazement.

"I TOLD YOU BARTON. I TOLD YOU. HE'S AMAZING."

Steve looked confusedly at them.

"Holy hell, Rogers. That was the most amazing thing I have _ever_ heard. Like _ever_ ever." Clint said.

"Like, Josh Groban and Michael Buble are about to be put out of a job. They got nothing on you!" Tony roared.

"I don't know who they are."

"It doesn't matter! They're nobodies now! Sing us another!" Tony shouted.

"Wait, I've got to get Nat, she'll die." Clint ran to the doorway and yelled, "NAT, GET IN HERE."

She came running in, "What?" she looked to Steve who was still clutching his head. "Isn't he supposed to be resting? Or did you forget you nearly took his head off a couple hours ago?"

"Sit down, listen to this."

"Nat, you don't have to…" Steve started.

"Nope, shut up Rogers, I never want to hear you say another negative thing about your voice ever again or I will kill you do you understand me?"

They spent the rest of the night making Steve sing for them. Natasha cried all night long at how beautiful he sounded. Steve got more confident as he went on, but was still shy to share his newly discovered talent.


End file.
